


Bad Drone

by Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)



Series: Bad Borg AU of the Bad Ensign Universe [2]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bad Ensign, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus
Summary: Janeway initiates a rematch with Seven.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Series: Bad Borg AU of the Bad Ensign Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570063
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Bad Ensign Stories





	Bad Drone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Curator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Bad Borg](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776098) by [Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus). 



**Bad Drone (Sequel to Bad Borg. Takes place in the Bad Borg AU of the Bad Ensign universe.)**

Kathryn honestly couldn’t put Seven out of her mind since their encounter in her ready room. She was able to focus while on duty, but spent many of her off hours devising a strategy for a rematch. Despite Seven’s assurance that if she were the subordinate trying to seduce the Borg she would achieve an easy victory, she knew Seven’s competitiveness and quest for perfection would not allow her to capitulate… not without some serious skill.

So she formulated a plan, quite pleased with herself when it all started to come together.

On the day in question she replicated a deep blue biosuit and several decorative yet convincing biometric implants. She and Seven were the only organic lifeforms still on board – she had strategically given an official order for everyone except the Borg to take shore leave on a beautiful, uninhabited Class-M planet with crystal clear water and sandy beaches. She had given Seven the bridge.

Showered and dressed in the biosuit, Kathryn site-to-site transported herself to sick bay and activated the doctor.

“Please state the nature of what in the Delta Quadrant you’re wearing,” his standard greeting deviated from canon as he stared at the captain.

Captain Janeway grinned at him and held out the armful of implants. “Assist me,” she said simply. “Attach them well enough so they won’t fall off with some jostling.”

The doctor’s face registered his extreme disapproval of this task, but he grudgingly took the cumbersome (yet aesthetically pleasing) pile of metal fragments and got to work.

When he was finished, he stepped back to survey his work. Captain Kathryn Janeway had a glowing red eye, an arch of metal along one side of her jaw that curled behind her ear, an assimilation device similar to Seven’s on the back of her left hand, and a jagged, spiked plate secured to the left side of her neck. Overall he was satisfied with the authenticity of the picture. “One last thing,” he said, inadvertently getting into what he was doing, finding he actually enjoyed it. “Your hair. Have a seat.”

Janeway raised an eyebrow at him but sat on one of the biobeds and allowed him to braid her hair into dozens of tiny plaits and then secure them all in a ponytail at the back of her head. It took longer than she would have liked but when he showed her a mirror, she grinned. “Nice touch. Thank you, Doctor.”

“Should I even ask why you want to look like a human/Borg hybrid?”

“Probably not,” she said with a little snort, heading for the doors.

***

Seven was bored, sitting alone on the bridge, occupying her time by cataloguing the different scents given off by the captain’s chair. When the turbolift chimed and the doors whooshed open her head snapped around. She’d thought she was alone on the ship. When she saw Captain Janeway her heart thudded against her ribcage and she struggled to breathe. She took a moment to collect herself and when the captain was standing in front of her she finally found her voice. “What is the meaning of this?” Her eyes tracked every change to the familiar face and figure. If she were not so unnerved she might have let herself realize how appealing the captain looked with all that… metal.

Kathryn smirked, slowly easing her way down until she was on her knees in front of Seven. “Unknown, my Queen. I guess I’m just a bad drone. A bad, bad… very bad… drone.”

Seven almost lost the game right there, her urge to touch the adornments overwhelming her as her eyes went wide. She forced her hands around the armrests of the chair in a death grip. Her synapses were all firing at once and she had to exert a significant amount of effort to wrangle them into order. She adapted quickly. “Five of Twelve, Secondary Adjunct of Unimatrix Forty-Seven, explain yourself at once.”

“All twelve of us seem to have caught a virus, my Queen,” Kathryn purred sensually. “It’s inhibiting our efficiency and causing unexpected side effects. I believe it is designed to make us human.”

“Unacceptable,” Seven barked. “On your feet, immediately.”

Kathryn bit Seven on the inside of a knee. “My legs are tired, my Queen.”

Seven knew she wasn’t allowed to touch the captain or she would lose the game, so her fingers dug into the leather of the chair’s armrests. “I will have you deactivated and dismantled,” she said coolly, though she was almost certain she could feel a scorching heat in her blood. Certainly there was a heat in her cheeks. This game was much harder as the captain. The ensign could do whatever he or she chose to do. The captain was infinitely limited to motionless rebuttal.

“That would decrease the efficiency of Unimatrix Forty-Seven by eight percent,” Kathryn said, biting Seven’s knee again in the same spot.

“Eight and one-third percent,” Seven corrected her. “I am prepared to make that sacrifice. Remove your mouth from my clothing.”

Kathryn titled her head to regard Seven through the optronic enhancer, and to her surprise, a readout of biorhythms appeared on the interface. “Your rate of breath has increased substantially, my Queen. Your heart rate has escalated to ninety-four beats per minute.”

Seven’s jaw dropped before she quickly schooled her expression, stunned that the captain had that information. “That is none of your concern, drone,” she said forcefully.

Time to up the ante. “Are you certain of that, my Queen?” She placed her hands on Seven’s ankles and slowly slid them upward, past her knees, along her thighs, pushing at them to get Seven to part them. Accomplishing her goal, she pressed forward into the gap, her body keeping Seven’s legs open so she could focus her hands on other things. “How long has it been, my Queen? Since you have been properly _appreciated_? Worshiped for the superior being you are?” Fingernails dragged down the Borg’s sides and back up her torso.

Seven drew in a sharp, short breath, her hips shifting of their own accord.

“Ninety-seven beats per minute,” Kathryn whispered, leaning forward further so she could reach around and unzip Seven’s biosuit.

Seven sat, looking impassive while her entire body was on fire. She allowed the captain to peel the suit from her shoulders and down her arms, revealing her breasts to the cool air of the bridge. _The bridge_. They were on the bridge. How had she been so distracted that she could forget where they were? She started to stand up when the captain was suddenly straddling her lap, grinding down onto her thighs, and she had to stay where she was. “Cease this affrontery,” she demanded, though even she could hear the waver in her voice.

Kathryn dropped her own voice low and sultry, skating her lips across Seven’s throat and up to her ear as she talked. “What if I… assimilated you?” she asked, breathing into Seven’s ear. “Our thoughts would be one. You couldn’t hide from me then, my Queen… hide the fact that you’ve wanted this for years. That your heart is pounding because you want me to _fuck_ you. That you’re no better than any of us; you’re dripping wet with weakness…”

Seven gasped, unable to stop it. How far would the captain take this? As soon as she gave in it would end, and she found this side of Captain Janeway to be… delicious. “Your words, as well as your touch, have no effect,” she declared.

“One hundred and two beats per minute,” Kathryn purred into her ear, sucking the lobe between her teeth and nibbling softly. “You’re lying to me. And to yourself. Don’t you wonder what it would be like? Fingers inside you, a mouth on your cunt?” She bit the spot just behind Seven’s ear and let out a throaty chuckle when Seven’s hips jerked. “I think you do.”

Suddenly the rules were not so clear in her mind. In fact, a few became fuzzy. Was the ensign allowed to penetrate the captain? She had been sure of everything just minutes ago. She knew she would face defeat if Captain Janeway commenced penetration. She was already throbbing. Her body was a traitor to this game, she had to rely on her mind. “I do not.” Of course she did.

Kathryn peeled the suit down to Seven’s waist and eased a hand inside, her forehead dropping limp onto Seven’s shoulder as her fingers were instantly coated with warm, slick arousal.

Seven yelped out of sheer surprise, then threw her head back and groaned, thighs clamping down on the captain’s hand.

Kathryn shouted in victory, dragging a fingernail across Seven’s clit as she withdrew her hand and stood up.

Seven fixed her suit and stood, grabbing Captain Janeway around the biceps and crushing their mouths together.

It was at that moment that the turbolift doors whooshed open and Tom and B’Elanna stepped onto the bridge, engaged in a heated argument. They both stopped and stared when they realized they weren’t alone.

“What in the mangled targ?” B’Elanna asked, eyes scanning Captain Janeway in alarm.

“Bad Ensign,” Tom reminded her, though even he was surprised to see the Captain with Borg implants and a biosuit. And were those braids?

B’Elanna snorted in a fit of laughter. “Bad Borg is more like it…”

Seven arched her cortical implant and regarded the half Klingon. “Bad Drone, to be precise,” she corrected. “The captain was indeed a bad drone. Regrettably, my ratio of wins to losses is now one to one.”

“You mean the captain won?” Tom asked, unable to tear his eyes from Captain Janeway.

“That is correct.”

Tom groaned and pulled out a PADD, punching a few buttons and then replacing it at his station.

“Explain,” Seven stated irritably.

Kathryn stepped in to save him the trouble. “I just won a month’s worth of replicator rations.”

Seven stared at her, incredulous. “Gambling is not permitted on this ship, you informed me of this yourself!”

The captain shrugged. “I’ll replicate you dinner.”


End file.
